


Fishing Frustrations

by JazzRaft



Category: Final Fantasy XIII, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Birthday Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 04:03:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20464721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: It was never about the fish for Noctis. He just enjoyed the peace and quiet. But it was hard to explain that to a woman with the most singular mind determination to catch him a fish for his birthday that he'd ever met.





	Fishing Frustrations

**Author's Note:**

> A [request](https://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/187399483777/henlo-its-me-i-just-got-the-balls-to-ask-if-you) done for [lucyyy091](https://lucyyy091.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.

“It’s your birthday.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m the one who told you that.”

“Good. You remember. Now sit down, shut up, and let me concentrate.”

Noctis didn’t need to be told thrice – he was still amazed that he got to live through being told _twice_. Mercy must have been a part of his birthday present. Otherwise, he was certain that Lightning would have hooked him in the face for getting on her nerves. Or, rather, for trying to tell her that she was doing it wrong.

It was so hard to bite his tongue and sit on his hands as he watched her fling the fishing line into the river. It was hard to keep his mouth shut on the advice he wanted to give her, and even harder still not to laugh at the fumes of frustration radiating from her shoulders like hot steam from the head of Ravatogh. As if the late summer evening wasn’t steamy enough, mist hanging heavy above the water as the sun began to sink below the mouth of the river.

He’d warned her that fishing would not be her forte. (That was his first mistake.) He knew that it required more patience – and gentleness – than she was capable of. Lightning was better put to tasks that demanded immediate results. She was point-and-shoot, not sit-and-wait. Which Noctis understood – and admired (and kind of feared a little bit). That snap-to decisiveness had gotten them through plenty of scrapes in the past, but what worked well for a gunblade didn’t necessarily work well for a fishing rod. And he’d never define fishing as a “scrape.” Maybe more like a snore. He was sure Prompto would agree.

“Light…”

“Noctis.”

His name sounded like a fist clenched between her teeth. One he did not want to be on the receiving end of should he dare to critique her fishing form. So instead, Noct leaned back on his hands along the riverbank and watched the water ripple out from around the lure. They were angry, jagged, erratic ripples, scaring off whatever fish may have been curious enough to eye the bait. Although he was sure that he would not be getting a freshly caught fish for his birthday, Noctis appreciated the gift of silence even more.

It wasn’t so much the thrill of the catch that reeled Noctis into fishing in the first place. It was more the stillness and the solitude of the act that he enjoyed. Running off to fish had been his only opportunity to escape the spotlight that chased him through Insomnia like an obsessed stalker. It had been the only time that he was allowed to slow down and stop rushing to meet the expectations of the Crown.

It was never about the fish. But it was hard to explain that to a woman with the most singular mind against failure that he’d ever met.

Lightning was competitive, though she’d never admit it if accused. Much as she might make a show of not wanting to participate in games or spars or any activity that required participation, Noctis could tell she craved to come out of even the smallest, friendliest spat on top. She needed to prove it to herself that she was strong enough to overcome any obstacle, whether that be a pack of sabertusks in the wild or a blunted blade in sparring practice.

The only competition in fishing was between the angler and the fish. And if the angler was to win, they couldn’t do it through force. There was no sword Lightning could use to skewer through her aquatic enemy… Though maybe spear fishing could be fun for her. For now, line fishing was her mortal enemy.

“Try breathing,” Noctis advised. “It works wonders.”

Lightning rolled her eyes at him, solidifying into a glare. For someone who demanded that _he_ relax, she wasn’t too keen on taking the same advice. Which was ultimately her downfall. Because five minutes that felt as long as twenty fell by before Lightning wrenched in the line and finally gave up.

“Fine,” she growled. “Show me how it’s done, oh King of Fishing.”

Noctis hopped to his feet, happily accepting the rod before she snapped it in half between the palms of her hands. “Okay, so what you want to do is…”

“I said show me, not tell me.”

Noctis bit the inside of his mouth to keep himself from babbling, and told himself not to take it personally. He’d endured the same impatience from his friends when they were in audience. Fishing just didn’t have the same calming effect on people as it did on him.

But he didn’t need to wait long for Lightning to feel guilty about snapping at him. As little patience as she may have had for fishing, sometimes she had even less of it for herself. Especially at the expense of someone she cared about. A sharp huff of breath was his apology before she said, “Tell me what you’re doing differently.”

Noctis smiled, casting a glance down at her to acknowledge the not-apology – it was the closest she would ever get to giving someone one. She’d claimed his spot on the riverbank, poised like a coeurl surveying her domain for prey. Lightning scanned the banks for danger while the prince fished, one arm over her knee, guarding their territory with the fierce blue blades of her eyes alone. It didn’t look like she was paying any attention to him, but Noctis knew that if he talked, she would be listening nonetheless.

That was all he really wanted: to be heard. To have enough quite that his own voice wasn’t lost to the rabid demands of an entire kingdom. The company was the best gift she could give him today. When she’d asked him what he wanted for his birthday, this was all he could have asked for.

The pile of trout he left at her feet by the end of it all? Well, the dead-eyed stare he got for that was just Noct’s gift to himself.


End file.
